I am Harry Potter's Cousin, Big D

With Dudley's strength, the weight of the luggage was nothing at all, and they easily boarded the train. The three of them found an empty compartment near the front of the carriage and settled in. The compartments on the Hogwarts Express were assigned by year, and first-year students could only enter their designated carriages.

As soon as they were seated, Dudley and Hermione, with a shared, unspoken understanding, took out their textbooks and began to study. The quiet, studious atmosphere was a bit too much for Harry. To pass the time and avoid looking idle, he reluctantly pulled out his own copy of A History of Magic. While he was genuinely interested in learning about the wizarding world, he simply couldn't study with the same intense, unwavering focus as his cousin and Hermione. The only sound in the compartment was the gentle, rhythmic rustling of turning pages.

"Can I sit here?"

The compartment door slid open, breaking the peaceful silence. A small boy with a shock of bright red hair and a face dusted with freckles poked his head in. "Everywhere else is full..." His eyes scanned the compartment and then fell on Dudley's imposing frame. He immediately backpedaled. "Sorry, my mistake. I thought this was the first-year compartment." He was about to turn and flee.

Dudley stopped him. "You didn't come to the wrong place," he said, his voice a low rumble. "This is the first-year compartment." He had tried his best to keep his voice down, but to the other boy, it still sounded like a small loudspeaker had just gone off next to his ear.

"But..." The red-haired boy was still hesitant, his gaze darting nervously towards Dudley, who seemed to take up half the compartment by himself.

Helplessly, Dudley pointed to his own chest. "I'm a first-year student too."

It would have been better if he hadn't said anything. His words only made the boy even more hesitant, his mind clearly racing as he tried to figure out if this was some kind of elaborate prank. He had two older brothers who were particularly fond of such things.

Seeing the boy's awkward, conflicted expression, Hermione and Harry covered their mouths and chuckled quietly. Finally, Harry, taking pity on him, offered a quick explanation, which seemed to convince the boy. Even so, after taking a seat, he still glanced towards Dudley from time to time with a mixture of fear, disbelief, and a healthy dose of suspicion.

"Hello, what's your name?" Harry, unable to focus on his book any longer and buzzing with the excitement of heading to a real magic school, took the initiative to break the silence.

"Ron," the boy replied, his voice a bit shaky. "Ron Weasley."

At the sound of the famous wizarding surname, Dudley couldn't help but look up from his book. Just then, Ron was also stealing another nervous glance at him, and their eyes met in mid-air. Ron involuntarily shivered, shrinking as far as he could towards the edge of his seat as if trying to make himself smaller. It was the typical first reaction of any child who met Dudley for the first time; his reputation for "curing a child's night crying" was well-earned.

Harry's next words, however, quickly snapped Ron's attention back. "Nice to meet you, Ron. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Ron's eyes widened in utter disbelief, his fear of Dudley momentarily forgotten. "You... you're Harry Potter?" he stammered, his voice unconsciously taking on a tone of awe and reverence.

This made Harry a little uncomfortable. "You don't have to do that, Ron," he said quickly. "Just call me Harry."

"Then you really... you know..." Ron struggled for words, unconsciously pointing to Harry's forehead. It was a rude gesture, but Harry, good-natured as he was, didn't mind at all. He brushed aside a lock of his messy black hair to reveal the faint, lightning-shaped scar. Ron's eyes went wide and round, almost bulging out of his head. Before he could speak, Harry covered the scar again. Dudley had warned him not to show it to just anyone unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Is that what You-Know-Who did?" Ron pressed on, his tone one of absolute certainty.

"Sorry," Harry said, wanting to change the subject. "I don't remember anymore."

"You don't remember at all?" Unfortunately, Ron didn't get the hint and continued to ask eagerly, his curiosity overriding his social awareness.

"Ahem... Mr. Weasley," Hermione spoke up, her voice crisp and clear. She had sensed her friend's growing impatience and decided to intervene before Dudley did. "I think Harry doesn't want to discuss this issue right now. Also, there's something dirty on your nose."

Her blunt, direct manner made Ron feel a bit uncomfortable and put him on the defensive. Yes, Hermione was brilliant academically, but she was not particularly skilled at socializing. Her tone often came across as condescending, even when she meant well. When she had first learned of Harry's identity, she had been surprised, but after spending time with him, she simply treated him as Dudley's younger brother. Ron, on the other hand, had grown up on heroic stories of Harry Potter. Having the living legend right in front of him, his curiosity was simply overwhelming.

"Who are you?" Ron asked, glancing at Hermione with slight displeasure.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger," she introduced herself stiffly, looking like a proud little hen puffing out her chest.

Harry then remembered his manners. "And this is my cousin, Dudley. Dudley Dursley."

"Y-you... hello," Ron stammered, the pressure from Dudley's sheer presence making him uneasy. The closer you got to him, the more you could feel an invisible, oppressive aura. It was like sitting next to a dormant volcano.

"You can just call me Dudley," Dudley said, putting down his book and looking directly at Ron. He was determined to get along well with his new classmates, so he offered what he considered to be a friendly smile.

Ron's heart nearly stopped. He managed to return a smile that was uglier than crying.

Just as he was seriously contemplating making an excuse to leave the compartment, there was a soft knock on the door, and a timid voice sounded from outside. "Excuse me... have you... have you seen my Trevor?"

The compartment door slid open, and a shy, round-faced boy stood nervously in the doorway, looking like he was about to burst into tears.

"You are?" Harry asked gently.

"I'm... Neville. Neville Longbottom." His pet toad, Trevor, was missing. "I've been looking for him for a long time," he pleaded, his eyes watery. "Can you help me?" His gaze traveled around the compartment and finally fell on Dudley. His body involuntarily shrank back, a reflexive retreat. It was the universal first reaction.

(End of Chapter)

***

(End of Chapter)

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